Chronic Pain: The Hits Just Keep Coming!

Grab your bat because you’re going to need it. Just when you think life has settled down, another ball comes flying at you from left field and you’re going to need to protect yourself. It’s not easy to explain this way of life to others. It’s a difficult situation to share with others. We should explain but we often don’t. Most of us have faced ridicule and judgments and are a bit “gun-shy,” of the reactions, words or even facial expressions of others, who do not understand. Why can’t they just accept on faith how difficult life can be when your body betrays you? Frankly, I’ve reached the conclusion that we’re “too scary.” Watch out, we’re spooky, threatening confusing. For some, it’s easier to deny we’re here then to face our reality.

There have been so many times in the last 20+ years when I searched for a hole to crawl into and could not find one. That old movie about the boy in a bubble has often come to mind and I don’t feel well enough to run away. Not only that but I’d end up bringing me, with all my problems along; what’s fun abut that? It is the nature of life to be with others and to share our lives. That is usually a good thing, but there are times…

Those times are when we are “down” both emotionally and physically. For some of us, we rally from one challenge only to be confronted by something else; sometimes it’s an emotional challenge, some new physical ailment, some complication from treatment and the list goes on. This whole business of life with chronic pain is not for the faint-hearted. Quite often when we feel least like it, we’re called upon to face yet another “hit.” I have a mental picture in my mind of one of those old Bugs Bunny cartoons about baseball. There were a lot of them in the “old days.” Softballs, hardballs, bats of all sizes, good and bad players with black eyes but always the “WHAM,” “BAM,” and hope you survive, ma’am. Sure wish I could morph back into shape like one of those cartoon characters. We real people just don’t have those resources and there are times we run quite low on the ones we do have.

There are many individuals in this world, who do not understand what it is like to fight for your physical existence each day. Some of them, unfortunately, are in the medical field. Many of them are kind and understanding but there are others who think you’re a crank if you list too many problems on your health history. I know because I have worked with some of those individuals. Certainly hospitals and emergency rooms are inundated with individuals who think they are far worse off than they are but that only makes it more difficult for those of us who truly confront a face full of health challenges all the time. Some of them probably entered the medical professions out of a sense of service but aren’t truly the “called.” If you are a patient, you can tell the difference.

I happened to notice, when I’ve brought up the subject of all this current health care change business, there is always someone who writes in and blames poor health on the sick individual. This, quite frankly, ticks me off. Many of us who have contracted rheumatoid diseases have eaten well, don’t over indulge on alcohol, have never smoked and live intelligent, self-loving lives. We ate our vegetables and exercised. We were basically living our lives when one day, a fastball arrived out of that infield and whacked us to the ground. I believe we are simply the victims of lousy DNA and are faced with the hard choices of making the most out of a bad situation. It doesn’t help at all to have some moron accuse us of not taking care of ourselves.

When those hardballs keep flying at us, it’s impossible to duck them. Some days they come so fast and with such intensity all you can do is lie down, think nasty thoughts about life, try to love yourself and wait it out. I hate, loath and despise days like that and it seems I have far too many of them. What do you do on a day like that? The terms of use for these bodies we have are not always, if ever, clear. I lost my owner’s manual years ago; therefore I often have to wing it. Do you remember those pictures of that poor, live dancing chicken that is placed on a hot grill? That’s me. I’m often that poor chicken, and I’m dancing as fast as my body will allow.

Many of us find it helpful to keep notes about what works and what doesn’t so we don’t repeat the same insanity over and over again. Others of us collect instructions from physical therapists and health magazines with stretches that help certain parts of the body. We search for healthy recipes and give far more thought to what we eat than most people do. We avoid pesticides in our food and know far more about vitamins than most do.

If it’s true that adversity makes you stronger, then we are all Superman, Atlas and the Incredible Hulk without the green paint job. There are times I feel I’m growing depths and wisdom enough to choke a horse. Oh how I long for those shallow, callous days of health when all I had to worry about was the color of nail polish to choose, where we were going for dinner and would the kids be home by curfew.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sue Falkner-Wood

Sue Falkner-Wood is a retired registered nurse living in Astoria, Ore., with her husband, who is also an R.N. Sue left nursing in 1990 due to chronic pain and other symptoms related to what was eventually...read more